


Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

by lembas7



Series: ECverse [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lembas7/pseuds/lembas7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the Trio, there were four boys, learning and growing during the first rise of a Dark wizard who called himself Voldemort. Seven years, in shapshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

**Author's Note:**

> Marauders' Era, 1970 - 1977.

_Calm. Stay calm._

It wasn’t like he hadn’t known what was going to happen, after all. Not like the rest of the first-years he’d heard chattering on the train. Mother and Father had taught him what was expected of the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

The Transfiguration professor was a stern woman of almost forty, who had introduced herself as McGonagall when she’d brought them into the Great Hall.

_It was the look Father gave me._ A testing, hard look, one that told Sirius there was more to the stories he’d heard from older children in pureblood families than just the need to scare someone younger.

_Just don’t let me be first, please, don’t let me be -_

“Abbott, Charles!”

The kid was skinny, taller than the rest of them, with a thin cap of blond straw poking over his ears. He made a funny gulping sound, and dropped onto the stool. The hat went down, and in the folds and bends of it Sirius thought he could see a face.

Then the face came alive, mouth opening wide to shout, “RAVENCLAW!”

The cheering was only distant background noise; Sirius gritted his teeth against what he knew was coming. And no sooner did Charles Abbott settle down at the blue-and-silver draped table than it came.

“Black, Sirius!”

He approached the hat the way he would a smirking Regulus; with confidence and extreme caution. It dropped down over his ears, and he steeled himself. _I’m ready._

Cloth shifted of its own volition; the scratchy voice shouted a word that had Sirius blinking in disbelief. _Gryffindor?_ He yanked it off, wanting nothing more than to be out from under everyone’s eyes. But he was still his father’s son, so he walked to the table, and managed a grin for the cheering older students.

He barely registered that Branstone, Cecily, became the first Hufflepuff, or that Chekwort, Nicholas, joined the ranks of Slytherin. When Sirius finally got his insides to stop shivering, they’d gone through all the D’s, and another Gryffindor had joined the table. She had a long mane of chestnut hair, and her name was Bridget.

But as the Sorting continued, Sirius couldn’t keep his attention on it.

_What are my parents going to say?_

 

_____________________________________________________________

 

_Wow . . ._

It was like nothing she could have even imagined! It was unbelievable, the high ceiling of the old stone castle, and the candles that were _floating_. Diagon Alley had been a wondrous surprise, but _this_ was just so much _bigger!_ And everywhere she looked there was magic. It was _incredible!_

“Evans, Lily!”

She almost jumped up the low steps to the dais in her excitement, fidgeting as she waited for the Professor – _McGonagall_ , she reminded herself – to lower the Hat.

_I wonder what’s going to happen._

_“Curious, eh?”_ The brim of the hat was over her eyes, but Lily knew the voice hadn’t sounded inside her ears. Well, if the hat could do it . . . . _Who are you?_

A sound like a laugh, reminding her of the swish of clothes hanging against one another in her closet. _“Well, I can see you’ve a fine mind. Ravenclaw, perhaps . . . But not shrinking from new experiences is a form of courage all its own. Godric’s House would suit that part of you much more, I think. Well, then -”_

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Lily grinned as the hat’s brim was raised over her eyes. Cheering, at the red-and-gold table. She saw Bridget, and waved as she got closer, sitting down. There was only one other kid at the table with them from their year, but he wasn’t paying attention.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Way to go!” Bridget grinned back. They’d been seated in the same car on the train and Bridget had told her that she was from a Wizarding family, but her dad had been Muggle-born. And she had a friend already!

“Finney, Nessa!”

Lily watched the dark-haired girl emerge, beaming, from under a tattered hem yelling, “RAVENCLAW!”

“Does the hat sing the same song every year?” The song this year had been full of strange warnings, about shadows and light and banding together. Surely this Wizarding world wasn’t _that_ awful! Lily knew quite a few things were going on in the news that her parents didn’t want her to hear about, but –

“Oh, no,” Bridget grinned as Goyle, Rupert, joined the ranks of Slytherin. “My mum says it makes up a new one every year. They never take it out except during Sortings, and it must get bored wherever they put it.”

“Jensen, Benjy!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“That sounds awful,” Lily said. Petunia would have sniffed and turned her nose up at the idea that a hat could have feelings, but Petunia was older by three years and thought she knew everything.

Lily glanced away from the front of the hall as a pale boy walked slowly toward the stool where the hat was waiting. She still couldn’t believe she was _here_ , a place where real magic was as ordinary as a car or radio. That _cars_ and _radios_ were considered strange -

Delight shivered through every inch of skin, settled into a smile.

_This is going to be great._

_____________________________________________________________

 

“Lupin, Remus!”

He’d been hoping for and fearing this day all his life. _What if it sees all the way inside my head? What if it knows that I’m a –_

But Professor Dumbledore had spoken with him, and his parents, many times before this year. The Whomping Willow was ready, as was the house in Hogsmeade. He knew the hat couldn’t see any further than surface thoughts. _Mum said it makes a lot of its decisions on how we react to it at the moment it settles on our head._

Which had made sense when he’d thought about it on the train. They were under pressure, everyone watching, and scared – so how they reacted to fear told the hat a lot about them.

Remus realized everyone was waiting, and stumbled up to the stool. The wolf was trembling inside, hackles up and tail down. He didn’t know which way to run.

_“There now. Ahh, Lupin. Yes, I remember your father.”_

The hat.

Remus swallowed, trying to think. _How do you do, sir?_

_“Chivalrous, too, eh? But you’d best let me see something of your life, young Remus! I can’t know where to sort you if you remain closed to me -”_

Inside, the wolf growled at the idea of backing down.

The hat was silent for a moment. _“So that’s the way of it, then?”_ The hat might have heaved a sigh; the sound reminded Remus of the wind blowing through clothes hanging on the line behind Muggle houses. _“It seems you’ve suffered much in your young life. Borne many trials, never shrinking . . .Truly one to carry on Godric’s ideals.”_

The roar sounded both in his ears and in his head. “GRYFFINDOR!”

He was Sorted!

Remus couldn’t help the grin, feeling relief well up from every pore, smoothing the wolf’s fur and his own nervousness. Mum and Dad had gotten the letter for him, but they’d been so afraid he wouldn’t be able to go – and even on the train he’d had the gut-wrenching fear that he’d arrive at the castle and be taken aside, someone would explain it had all been a mistake . . .

But he’d been _Sorted!_ It was permanent now, he was at _Hogwarts!_ The wolf wanted to yip, chase its tail, play. Remus bounced in his seat a little, and a redheaded girl grinned at him.

“Hi, my name’s Lily.”

“MacDonald, Wallace!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“I’m Remus,” he grinned back, through the hoots coming from the table on the opposite side of the Hall. Green and silver banners glinted in the candlelight over the cheering students. “I can’t believe it!”

Lily’s hair flashed red in the candlelight. “Me either. Oh,” she gestured at the girl next to her, still absorbed in the Sorting. “This is Bridget.”

“What?” the girl asked, attention drawn from the sorting.

“Nakamura, Asuka!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Remus shouted along with the others as the girl made her way through the few first years left clumped at the foot of the dais. She beamed a sunny smile on them, and Remus blinked. _She’s really tiny!_

The girls were all talking, then, giggling whispers, and he looked to his side at the only other boy Sorted into his House. He hadn’t said anything yet, and Remus looked him over for a second. The boy’s hair was much darker than his, and maybe that was what was making his face look so pale, but blue eyes weren’t looking anywhere in particular. “Hey.”

The kid gave him a little grin; Remus tried to smile back. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Just hungry.”

“There’s supposed to be a feast after,” Remus offered. Maybe the other boy was a Muggle and didn’t know.

“I know,” was the answer. “I’m just really hungry!”

They laughed, and Remus felt a bit of a start as he realized he was making a friend. Another student was sorted to Ravenclaw, and Remus stuck out his hand. “My name’s Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“Sirius Black,” the other offered. The grin was more real now.

“O’Connell, Declan!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The shout turned both their heads, and Remus felt Sirius cheering next to him, welcoming the redheaded boy to their table.

“Looks like we don’t have near enough a full House as the others,” Declan said after introductions. Remus looked; Slytherin had claimed ten students already, with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff each welcoming nine new members to their tables.

“Pettigrew, Peter!”

The hat seemed to take a short while to think here, and Remus watched in fascination. “GRYFFINDOR!” was the final proclamation, a few minutes later.

The blond, smaller than most of the other kids, staggered off the stool in relief.

“That took awhile,” Remus commented.

“Yours did too.” It was Sirius, surprisingly. _I didn’t think he was paying attention._

Peter Pettigrew tripped onto the bench with a sigh. “Hi,” he squeaked.

Remus shrugged, glancing at the other. “Hi.”

 

_____________________________________________________________

 

_I did it._

Only he hadn’t, really. People always underestimated him because he was little; Peter’d gotten tired of being the smallest, the last in races and lines and games and almost everything. So when the Hat had probed his thoughts, he’d snapped back for the first time.

_What do you want?_

_“Well,”_ was the response. _“Belligerent, not a Hufflepuff, no sir.”_ Something had scraped his thoughts; Peter started.

_What is that? Who are you?_

_“Can’t you guess?”_

Under the brim of the Sorting Hat, Peter blinked. _It can’t be . . ._

He heard another huff, though he couldn’t tell if it was from his ears or not. A few words that sounded something like, _“Not a Ravenclaw, then. But what about . . .”_

_Get out of my head, you!_

_“What do you want, young Mr. Pettigrew? I can see where you wouldn’t belong, but where you should be is another matter entirely.”_

Peter thought about the bravado all the bullies in his town had used, to get him to leave their games or let them beat him up. Tried to summon a bit of it for himself, though he’d never got the hang of that charm no matter how much Mother tried to teach him. _It’s not my job to Sort the students, it’s yours!_ He was . . . fairly certain he was talking to the Sorting Hat.

_“Well. Working up a bit of nerve . . . I’ll give you a chance to make good on that.”_

Dread curdled in his stomach.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

**Author's Note:**

> As you can probably tell, this is so far from being finished that it's pathetic. This chapter isn't even done yet. I'm posting this mostly as a place-saver within the chronology.


End file.
